by J. P. Rice
“What are you doing, Merlino? You have that crazy look in your eyes again. You can’t defeat all those sewer dragons.”
“Can’t I? Only one way to find out. Hold my beer.” I cracked my neck and stretched out my arms. Crouching down, I loosened up my hamstrings.
“What beer?” She looked around on the ground.
“Never mind. It’s just a saying.” I ran against the flow of people and fought my way up 6th Avenue, bumping shoulders and knocking knees with other people along the way. Ping-ponging off my fellow citizens, I weaved around an overturned Cadillac Escalade in the middle of the road, smoke pouring from its engine.
I spotted the injured sewer dragon. It hooked a right onto Montour Way, so I quickened my pace. As I broke out of my pack, my arm hooked on something and a woman headbutted my shoulder unintentionally. My arm had hooked through her loose purse strap and we worked together so I could get loose. The terrified, bawling woman didn’t want to wait any longer and sprinted toward safety.
I threw the purse down and went after the sewer dragon. I made the right into a nice alley to follow it and immediately saw that there were no people on the street. I called on a fireball and launched it at the back of its head. The compact globe of energy clanged off the back of the sewer dragon’s head, but it got the monster’s attention.
I prepared another ball of flames, waited for it to coalesce fully, and drew my arm back. The angered beast turned around, and I zeroed in on its weak spot. With a flick of my wrist, the fire ball jumped off my hand and raced toward the target. The sewer dragon tried to dodge to the left, but it was an instant too late.
Splat, not a metal clang, was the sound I heard. The fireball ripped into the soft flesh of the beast and I watched its spooky eyes fight against the inevitable before going dead. The snake-like dragon slumped forward and slowly collapsed to the street, releasing a strong ammonia smell. Satisfied with my first kill, I plunged deeper down the deserted road, mystified that nobody was using it to escape.
Two sewer dragons appeared ahead, slithering down the street toward me. Perhaps that was why nobody was using the alley.
Time for some target practice. I needed to work on my fireball aim, anyway. I formed two more fireballs and decided to test my ambidexterity. These two dragons had smaller areas of soft flesh right below their faces. Challenge accepted.
An abandoned Ford Focus parked sideways in the middle of the one-lane alley looked like it could serve as a barrier and give me the chance to fire at will until I hit the target. It didn’t appear that they could slither over the small car. I waited for the dragons to get closer before unleashing the two-for-one special.
The sewer dragons approached the car and stopped. Perfect. Confusion appeared to be getting the best of the beasts until one of them leaned its head down, widened its jaw and sank its fangs into the trunk of the Ford Focus. The leviathan creature lifted the car from the ground like a crane and shook its head from side to side.
The smell of gasoline rushed through the alley as the dragon swung its head to the left and let go of the car. The neon green Ford Focus cartwheeled through the air, end over end. The car headed toward the second story of a red brick building with enormous glass windows. The Focus smashed through one of the windows and became lodged in the building, the back half dangling perilously over the edge, tires spinning and gas dribbling from the punctured tank.
Shaking off the showcase of destruction and refusing to let it intimidate me, I aimed and unleashed the spheres of pulsing electricity with a quick underhand motion. Fast and true, the compact flames burrowed into the necks of both dragons. A gurgling sound followed as they slumped down. Black blood poured from the wounds, leaving a shiny coat on the dark pavement.
Maybe I could take out all the sewer dragons and save Pittsburgh. Two more slithered toward me from straight ahead and I got ready to heave more fireballs.
Just as I was about to get cocky and start talking shit, the strong scent of paint thinner hit me from behind. Spinning around instinctively, I jumped back as three sewer dragons closed in on me. A few three-sixties revealed that five sewer dragons had surrounded me, leaving me nowhere to go. In a vise. Locked in a cell.
Not. Good.
Surrounded by enormous sewer dragons in a tight alley, I had to hatch a quick plan. I was too close to launch fireballs at their necks like the previous ones. Because of the angle, they would just skitter off the scales under the soft area.
One of the sewer dragons lunged its head at me. The time for thinking was over and I dodged to the right.
The iron trap of sharp fangs sprang toward me like a whip. The beast slammed its jaw shut as I ripped my arm away. The sewer dragon bit into my loose sleeve and yanked its head away. The sounds of ripping fabric filled my ears as I corkscrewed around a couple times.
The dragon had torn off part of my sleeve, leaving an unevenly cut wrist band. It spit the piece of fabric at me, almost mocking me.
The five beasts surrounding me opened their mouths wide and roared in unison. Not only could I feel the breath of the dragons hitting me in the face and back of the head. Not only could I smell the meaty funk on their breath. The noise. The terrifying audible outpouring of the sewer dragons made the screaming T-Rex from Jurassic Park sound like a purring kitty cat.
I felt like I was on an island. No one to call. No one to save me. Just me and this stale, thick air. When was the storm going to start? Maybe it would wash these jagoffs away.
I needed to bust out of this trap. Spinning around, I formed a couple of hasty fireballs and heaved them at the three dragons’ heads. The oblong fireballs were still growing as they streaked through the air. The sewer dragons moved their bodies to avoid the incoming pain, creating a small opening for me to run through. With the dragons distracted, I made a break for it.
As I squeezed through, I lifted my arms to get skinnier. The sides of my ribcage rubbed along the scales of two dragons and my shirt snagged. I couldn’t use my arms because the dragons were squeezing against me. I ripped my shoulders back and forth desperately and the fabric mercifully started to tear. I wedged my way forward, spinning around and trying to get loose.
My entire shirt ripped away like I was Hulk Hogan, except for my collar that hung around my neck like a necklace and the wristband of material from the first attack. My hand raced to my heart. I felt my silver triskele amulet near my chest and breathed a sigh of relief. Phew, I hadn’t lost my enchanted necklace.
I’d almost made it out of the dragon sandwich when one of the dragon’s tails whipped around and smacked my left shoulder, knocking me onto the raised sidewalk. Fighting against the pain, I jumped up and limped quickly down the alley.
I stopped at the intersection of 6th Avenue and Montour Way. Now that I wasn’t surrounded, I called on more fireballs. The sewer dragons closed in on me, not ready to give up the fight. I noticed the dull patch of flesh on these beasts was smaller. The shimmering scales only left a tiny spot to attack, making the dragons nearly invincible.
As they closed to about fifteen feet, I heaved the fireballs at the moving dragons and hoped for the best. Hearing the splattering, squishy flesh sound confirmed the hits. The contact acted like an explosion.
Black blood and chunks of purple dragon rained down on me and the pavement. Hot dragon blood speckled my face and I raised my forearm to protect my eyes. Dark liquid sprayed out of the wound and the lower half of the body that had remained intact whipped around like an out of control garden hose.
A big piece of the sewer dragon’s head landed next to me. Dripping in dark blood, the muscles quivered spasmodically, reminding me that it was just alive a few seconds ago.
The dragons fell face first, but their friends didn’t stop to deliver a eulogy. They slithered up and over the dead bodies to get to me.
I drew two more fireballs and took a few steps back. These dragons were closing in fast. Throwing the fireballs, one connected with the soft flesh, but the other one clanged off the defens
ive armor and crashed into a concrete building on the side of the alley.
My miss left me extremely vulnerable. The gaping mouths of two predatory beasts raced straight for my face. Without the ability to dodge left or right, I shuffled my feet backwards. Their jaws started to snap closed, and I shut my eyes. It had been a nice run while it lasted.
Something tugged forcefully on both my pant legs. Opening my eyes revealed that the dragons had come up just short, but they had bitten into the loose pant legs of my jeans, on each side. The beasts jerked their jaws and had little trouble tearing away the denim. The denim destruction resulted in a pair of extra short jean shorts.
Realizing I didn’t have the ability to defeat all the sewer dragons today, I made a break down 6th Avenue so I could get back to the authorities and hopefully to safety. The dragons raced after me, their jaws snapping right behind me. I figured that their depth perception wasn’t perfect, which explained why they could chomp a parked car, but couldn’t connect with a moving target like me.
The slamming sounds of theirs jaws finally ceased, so I peeked over my shoulder while still moving. The dragons weren’t chasing me anymore, so I stopped. Turning around, I saw that the three sewer dragons had halted about ten feet behind me. I moved onto the sidewalk, staying close to the reflective glass on the building. I assumed that might give them visual trouble when they attacked me.
I didn’t want a draw. I wanted to win.
However, in my current state of no shirt and jean shorts creeping to the top of my thighs, I thought it best to go for backup. At six-foot-three, I looked like an ant compared to these enormous beasts. The dragons hissed at me angrily and one of them swung its head down to the sidewalk.
The sewer dragon’s purple head smacked into the side of a fire hydrant and water burst from the red object, rocketing straight at me.
Oh shit. A cannon blast of water hit me in the midsection, lifted my feet off the ground and tossed me backwards. I landed on my back, searching for the oxygen that had just been flushed out of my lungs. On the bright side, the water had washed away all the sewer dragon blood and goo.
I crawled to the side to avoid the rushing water. These beasts were crafty. Picking myself up and dusting myself off, I should have been cold considering it was winter. An unnerving, warm flow of air breezed by, blowing more trash around.
I hustled toward the line of authorities. I had one major problem. I looked like a damn fool and had the biggest wedgie of my life. These Daisy Dukes the dragons had created were jamming my boxers up my backside. Should I pick it in front of everyone?
Looking nothing short of foolish, I walked up to Gretchen. “That didn’t go as well as planned.”
My outfit had to be hilarious because Gretchen, whom I considered one of the most serious people I knew, could barely contain her smile. I turned around to see if the sewer dragons had left, but even more had joined their pals on 6th Avenue. Gretchen said, “Holy shit, your back is bleeding, Merlino.”
“Probably just some brush burns from the pavement. I’ll be fine.” I had a high tolerance for pain. It came with the territory.
She shielded her eyes from the dust being kicked up. “At least it’s only these snake-like dragons and not flying ones.”
“Way to look on the bright side.”
A clarion shrieking, squawking racket attacked my ears. Much worse than the battle cry of the sewer dragons. “Oh, shit,” I said, peering up at the sky.
Objects as big as the school bus-sized thunderbirds from the Deep Burrow streaked through the dark sky. A heavy ray of sun defied the dense storm clouds and sneaked through to reveal enormous creatures silhouetted against the backdrop of the sky.
Shielding my eyes from the dust, I peeked through the openings in my fingers.
Two. Four. Now seven. Nine. Fuck. I knew fuck didn’t normally follow nine, but in this situation, it did.
More than a dozen enormous black dragons descended on the city. The magical beasts swooped in, their wing beats causing gale force winds, blowing Gretchen’s hair back.
The ugly dragons landed on the tallest buildings in the city. Perched atop the skyscrapers as if they owned them, the dragons peered down over the city, seemingly pleased with the destruction below.
From a distance, through the rising smoke and swirling debris, I scoped out the dragons.
The black dragons had four feet and two wings and were covered with shimmering scales that shone even after the sun disappeared again. One dragon turned its elongated face in my direction, red eyes staring at me, fire building in its flaring nostrils. It yawned, exposing a set of sharp fangs taller than a child. More flames danced around the back of its mouth.
The dragon had the classic look you would see in most story books, but its coiled tail looked like it might stretch out over one hundred yards.
Why were these dragons in Pittsburgh? Were they acting for someone else or were they invading the city for themselves?
Gretchen was still checking out the dragons with her jaw dropped. She had a firm grip on her pistol, although I was not sure it would even hurt the flying dragons. One beast spewed a mountain of flames into the air, brightening the dreary city skyline momentarily.
I refocused on ground level. Out of the chaos, a lone humanoid figure emerged. A man with long, scraggly dark hair with streaks of silver stood about twenty feet in front of me. He waved his finger in the air and formed a defense shield around himself. A glittering of red, green and blue danced around his body, outlining the shape of a dome before disappearing.
I shifted the dimension of my vision to see how powerful he really was. Enormous magical vines emanated from his body, telling me that this person was extremely well versed in the practice of magic.
The grizzled man had to be almost seven feet tall. He glided along the pavement, big black boots pacing smoothly back and forth. If his dark appearance hadn’t emitted an aura of evil, I would have said he was prancing to and fro.
He wore what appeared to be medieval style layers of boiled leather armor over his upper body, topped with a jacket of golden ring mail. He swept the nest of hair that hung to his chest away from his face and tucked it behind his ear, exposing the hidden half of his face.
Despite a shield of stubble covering his face, he revealed a wasteland of burns and unhealed flesh, but that wasn’t the most disturbing part. A maze of red scars and swollen blue veins covered the right side of his face. That still wasn’t the most disturbing part.
His missing right eye grabbed my attention and wouldn’t let go. Flesh hadn’t grown over the purple, bruised area. Depending on which way he turned, the wound changed color from black to burgundy to deep purple.
The man crossed his arms, puffed out his chest and stood defiantly. He screamed, “This is no longer your city. Leave now and your lives will be spared. Go against us, and death shall be delivered. My dragons will not leave until this city is ours. Sod off or die.”
I heard a voice from behind. “FIRE.”
I kissed the pavement and covered my head. I heard a steady stream of bullets pinging off the mysterious man’s defense shield. I should have warned the cops not to do that. I peeked at the target and noticed bullets bouncing off his shield, redirected at unintended targets.
You couldn’t be careless when dealing with the supernatural. You could summon fireballs only to realize they were useless against the opponent. Or you could just shoot wildly at something and end up with the result these cops were getting.
The looks of shock and awe on the faces of Pittsburgh’s finest were a direct juxtaposition to the shit-eating grin on the face of my new enemy.
That was until a Terrible Towel came flying through the wind tunnel-like atmosphere. The bright yellow towel somehow broke through his protection shield and hit the man in the head. He wrestled with the Terrible Towel for several moments until he finally ripped away the small piece of fabric.
He threw the towel down and stomped on it, grinding it into the pavement. The
Terrible Towel was a symbol of the Pittsburgh Steelers. True Pittsburghers considered it sacrilege to stomp on one of them and the act gave me extra motivation to take this asshole out.
I had to put this asshole on notice so I moved toward him. Gretchen tried to hold me back, but I shrugged off her arm.
I pointed at the smug bastard. “I’ll give you one chance to get out of this city or you are the one who’s going to die.”
The man laughed, and I had half a mind to bull rush this asshole, even though I’d probably bounce off his defense bubble. I screamed, “Look at me.” Oh, shit. I’d forgotten what I was wearing. Not exactly intimidating. Too late now. “Get a good look. I’m the person who is going to kill you. Last chance to leave right now.”
The man laughed again. He was taller and thicker than me, but even Debo got knocked the fuck out. I took a few steps back and squeezed between Gretchen and Officer Riggins.
The supernatural man left his defense shield in place as he backed away. The brash bastard was almost moonwalking like Michael Jackson. He had a dancer-like quality to his graceful movements, which was in stark contrast to his grisly appearance.
The sewer dragons moved in behind their master in a show of strength. The man smiled and Officer Riggins, who was standing next to me, started sliding toward the man. I reached out to grab him but my fingertips missed.
The officer’s feet weren’t moving, but he was moving at the pace of a jog. Some unseen force was drawing him in. That was why that bastard was smiling.
Riggins screamed for help, his husky voice begging for someone to save him. Taking a few steps toward him, I tried to cast a spell to reverse the forceful dragging.
It didn’t work. Riggins slid to a stop right in front of the mysterious man. The one-eyed man stared down at the bowling ball-shaped officer for a few moments.
The man set his hands on Riggins’ shoulders. With casual ease, he picked up the shorter officer and tossed him over his head. Riggins’ crouched body flew up like an uneven rock. When he made it to about fifteen feet above ground, two of the sewer dragons struck. Their necks whipped like that of a snake and their heads clanged into each other, but one of them chomped into Riggins, spraying blood down over the dragon master.